Masquerade

13

Breakfast with Nick had actually been a relaxing affair, more so than I would have thought it would be. We were both comfortable with each other's company, chatted a lot about nothing in particular, and laughed more than I had in while. The whole experience had been a good distraction for me. I do best when I have those, whether that be by writing, spending time with engaging people, or have something else just as thought consuming to occupy my mind.

By the time we left the diner my meds had kicked in, and while I'd not felt normal I'd at least begun to feel a hell of a lot better. We'd gone to my apartment after that, and in no time at all Nick had my heat fixed and running, just as he'd said he would.

He's been gone a while now, and as I sit on my sofa watching the sun slowly sink toward the far horizon, I find I kind of miss his company. He's easy to talk to, I've found. Not overly serious, though in no way lacking that talent when the situation calls for it. He's just an all around nice guy, and I find more and more that I'm happy to have met him.

My thoughts are lighter for a change, and that can't be a bad thing. I feel I owe the majority of my thanks to Nick for that. I smile as I think about him.

When my phone rings, I look at the caller ID and my smile fades. Spencer. Again. I sigh, deny the call, then lay the phone back down on the cushion beside me. I'd missed several calls from him before I'd gotten back home, and he'd called several more after that.

I know I should probably talk to him, since I did tell him to call back, but I'm finding myself reluctant to do so. Every time I do, it seems I get sucked back into that realm of sadness, the one that makes my life a confused mess.

But I'm feeling good today, and I just don't want to lose that. I want to hold onto it for just a little while, be greedy with the welcome change and whatever time I'm allotted to feel it.

My phone rings again. I deny the call then turn the power off completely. I drop it once more to the sofa, then rise slowly to my feet. I cross the room to the kitchen, fill my kettle with water, then set it on the stove to boil. Tomorrow I'll have to replace my coffee maker, but tonight I'll have to settle for tea.

While I wait on that, I move to my desk then power up my laptop. I need to get some writing done, but that can wait for just a little while longer. Right now I have other dreaded business to take care of: online shopping.

I've yet to order my costume and time is running out. Usually I have this chore done weeks in advance, but this year? This year is different. This year I hadn't even planned on attending the celebrations, let alone becoming one of the main attractions.

I frown at that thought. I know I could always back out, even though everyone knows about it by now. It's not as if I signed a binding contract or anything. But do I really want to? It will be good for the festival, if nothing else, and even if I end up with someone like Howard the grocer for a date, there's nothing binding in that either. Besides, maybe Sarah is right. Maybe it will be fun.

In the end, it will all boil down to just a different kind of masquerade, one that will last one night of my life and no more than that. And if I choose someone who isn't Howard the grocer--or, God forbid, Mr. Puck--maybe the resultant date won't be too bad either. Lord knows I need something to do other than wallow in the self-pity I've fallen into. And maybe that could be the accidental something I've been needing.

Spencer tries to creep into my mind, but I shove him away. I'm not going to think about him today.

I type in the search engine on my computer, and soon my mind is absorbed in my planning. By the time the kettle begins to whistle, I am almost excited with the prospects. While I may not be completely on board with my role, that doesn't mean I can't enjoy dressing the part.